The Summer After
by obstinance-as-an-artform
Summary: The summer after sixth year has been a frenzied blur for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. From the pages of their journals, follow the four friends as they journey through a summer that will change their lives forever.
1. Harry: Pathetic, Aren't I?

**The Summer After**

_potterfreak16_

**Disclaimer:** As much as I wish I could say Harry Potter sprung up from my own imagination, I can't. JK Rowling is the mastermind behind this phenomenal series, so all of the credit is bestowed upon her. Thank you, Jo, for creating these characters, especially Ginny Weasley, since everyone knows she is my alter-ago. ;)

**A/N:** So, I've been growing tired of writing non-HP stuff lately, which is partly why I decided to write this. This will be a short series written in the viewpoints of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Each chapter will offer new journal entries from one of the four characters. The inspiration for this story comes from my favorite gossip buddy hopewashere04 and her brilliant story _A Daring Granger._ I'm officially in love with that story, and I bet after reading it you'll be too. Hopefully you'll like this story, though, even if it doesn't even compare to Laurie's. :)

**Chapter One: Harry – Pathetic, Aren't I?**

**16th June, 7:12 PM**

I could be – _should_ be, actually – at the Burrow right now with Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, but instead I'm still at the Dursleys', waiting for the git known as my best mate to get here. Another minute in this place and I may just go mad.

I've already been driven by my depleting sanity to write in this...well, I don't know exactly what to call it, really. Diary sounds too feminine, and Ginny would have my head if she caught wind of me referring to this..._thing_...as such. Damn. There I go again, thinking about her. Even if it was only to imagine her reaction to me keeping a diary that isn't really a diary at all. More like a book of yellowed parchment, really.

Right, Potter. From this moment on, all thoughts of Ginny Weasley and her soft hair and warm eyes will stop. I'm putting my bloody foot down. Besides, I've got more important things to worry about. Like destroying pieces of Voldemort's soul.

At this point, though, I think it'll be easier to find and destroy the Horcruxes than it will be to stop thinking of Ginny, and that smile she wore at Dumbledore's funeral as I started to break things off with her.

STOP IT, POTTER.

I'm pathetic, aren't I? If you weren't a tattered notebook, I'd imagine you'd say yes.

I think a subject change is in order. I really must be going mad if I'm having made up conversations with a notebook.

Let's see...what do I have to complain about? Loads, if you want the truth. And I guess that's what your purpose is, for my words of anger and resentment and cynicism to be written onto your pages. Unfortunately, I don't complain. Not usually, anyway. And especially not in a notebook or journal or whatever you are.

That's because Harry Potter, the ruddy Boy-Who-Lived, doesn't have time to grieve or think or even _feel_ most of the time. He's too preoccupied with saving the world, because as most everyone knows, that's all he's good for. Because it won't really matter if he dies trying, will it? As long as Voldemort's gone, that's all that'll matter. That's all they'll care about. And they wonder why he's bitter.

Ron had better get his arse here soon, or else I may keep talking about myself in the third person in incoherent tones.

I just reread that sentence. Incoherent? Since when have I said _that?_ I'm telling you, I'm going mad sitting in this house. That and the fact that I haven't gotten a proper night's sleep in what feels like ages. I'm beginning to sound like Hermione, using all of these big words.

And speaking of Hermione, I haven't heard from her since...well, the funeral. I expect she's been busy, but it's still strange for her not to write. I've gone entire summers with only one letter from Ron, but never once have I failed to receive less than a dozen from Hermione. Maybe it's better this way, though. All she'd do is ask me how I was feeling, anyway, and I'd really rather not talk about that, even if she is my best friend.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not ready to talk about everything that's happened. I'm not ready to talk to Ron and Hermione about the cave and what happened while Dumbledore and I were inside of it. I'm not ready to discuss the details of the events that transpired on the Astronomy Tower, or the way I watched in silent horror as everything played out before me, as if I were watching a Muggle movie. I'm not ready to talk about Ginny or the look on her face when I told her what I had to do, or the understanding that shone in her eyes that I wish hadn't been there, because maybe then it would be easier to let her go.

I'm not ready to leave Hogwarts behind me and embark on the journey to find the missing Horcruxes. I'm not ready to face the imminent danger that lies ahead of me. I'm not ready to fulfill my destiny as The Boy-Who-Lived, to destroy Voldemort once and for all. I'm not ready for any of it.

But it doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. The world doesn't have time for an unprepared hero.

**Still 16th June, 11:07 PM**

I am officially the biggest prat the world has ever known.

I just bumped into Ginny on the staircase, and instead of apologizing or even _speaking_ to her, I did this weird nervous thing with my hands and sort of _dashed_ up the stairs. I cringe to think of what her opinion of me is now. _Bad enough the git breaks up with me, but then he doesn't even have the decency to apologize after nearly knocking me down the stairs?_

I wish I wasn't so bloody nervous around her. No, I suppose nervous isn't the word. More like terrified. I don't trust myself around her. I know that if I'm in her presence for too long, I'll end up snogging her senseless, which will defeat the entire purpose of why I ended things with her to begin with.

Although, I must admit, a good snog with her sounds excellent right about now.

Wait a second. Why am I even writing in this thing?

I make a prat of myself and the first thing I do is scribble the experience down in a bloody journal. At this rate, I'll have this entire thing filled by summer's end.

Let's just hope it doesn't come to that.


	2. Ginny: Understanding's My Middle Name

Chapter Two: Ginny – Understanding's My Middle Name 

_potterfreak16_

**A/N: Chapter two, written in Ginny's POV. Reviews are always appreciated. Ginny's last entry is inspired in part by Opalish's _Need._ **

**17th June, my room, 11:27 AM**

I'll have you know – yes, _you_ – that I am _fine_ without Harry Boy-Who-Lived Potter in my life. Not that anyone round here believes that. Mum's always giving me these sympathetic glances, and Dad keeps patting my head, saying things like, "It'll get easier, sweetheart." As if they know how it feels.

Wait. There isn't anything _to_ feel, because I don't care about the fact that Harry broke up with me mere weeks ago, at a funeral no less. And I certainly don't care that he's here right now, sleeping in Ron's room, the sound of his snores drifting in through my slightly opened door.

No. I don't care _at all._

I think I'm doing rather well, if I do say so myself. I haven't cried once, unless you count Dumbledore's funeral, and that wasn't even because of Harry. It was because the world's greatest wizard had just _died,_ for Merlin's sake.

And it _certainly_ didn't bother me when he bumped into me last night on the stairs and kept walking as if I didn't exist. Even though it was rather rude of him not to apologize. I mean, honestly, I could have fallen and broken my neck. You'd think the git would have had enough bloody decency to at least say, "Sorry, Gin, didn't see you there." _Something._ Hmph.

But as I said, it didn't bother me in the least.

And don't give me that look. I mean it. Even though you're just a book and can't really give me any sort of look one way or another.

Hermione should be along in a few days. It'll be nice to see her again, I suppose, especially since I didn't give her a proper goodbye at the end of term. It was rather hard to do that, though, considering the circumstances. It would've been rather awkward to have smiled cheerily and hugged her like I normally do. I don't suppose the mood was right for hopeful goodbyes.

Still, she'll be here soon enough, and then I'll at least have someone round to keep me occupied. Sitting alone in my room day after day is getting a bit redundant.

Well, since you _are_ a diary and all, (completely non-possessed, of course) I guess it wouldn't hurt to actually put my thoughts onto paper. I think being stuck in this stage of denial or whatever Hermione called it in her last letter is beginning to become rather unhealthy.

I'm feeling so very frustrated at the moment. Not with anything in particular; it's more like everything in my life. Frustrated because I was powerless to stop the events that took place that last night at Hogwarts, angry because of losing Professor Dumbledore, and completely _furious_ at the boy with vivid green eyes who stole my heart and stomped it to a bloody pulp.

And that's not all. Because it's not all about losing Dumbledore or Harry or the fact that I can't seem to forget about him. It's more than that. It's the fact that nobody bloody trusts me round here; not Ron, not Harry, not even Hermione, who's supposed to be my best friend. They act as if I don't know what they're planning, like I'm still the same stupid, naïve girl I once was. And you'd think, after knowing me for so long, that they'd realize how much I've changed, but they haven't. To them, I'm still poor, helpless Ginny, too young to comprehend the complicated curveballs life has thrown at them.

I really believed that Harry understood me, that he had finally opened his eyes and saw me for the woman I've become. I really thought that things had changed between us, not even in the romantic sense of the word, (although I'll admit, it _was_ wonderful) but as human beings, similar creatures. I thought he'd finally realized that I wasn't the same nervous eleven-year-old girl that landed her elbow in butter dishes while in his presence. I truly, honestly believed that things had really changed between us in all of the right ways.

But once again, poor, defenseless Ginny Weasley had been wrong. She usually is when it comes to him.

Or maybe I'd been right – maybe he really did understand me. Maybe he did appreciate and respect me. Maybe he _did_ care about me, as much as I still care about him, even though I can't bring myself to admit it anymore.

And maybe that's why it's so hard for me to let go.

It's not like me to be this way – quiet, reserved, sulky. I've broken up with loads of blokes before, and I've always bounced back just fine, except for this time. This time it's different, and we both know it. Everyone does. Because this wasn't like Michael or Dean – this actually meant something to me, something I never imagined I could feel.

And maybe if I wasn't so bloody understanding, so _supportive_ of him, it wouldn't be this way. Maybe if I would've yelled or cried or screamed at him, things would've turned out differently. Maybe things would still be like they were at Hogwarts – nowhere near carefree, but happy and wonderful all the same.

But of course I didn't yell or cry or scream at him, because he's Harry and I'll always support him, even when I wish I wouldn't. Because I'm Ginny Weasley, and understanding's my middle name.

Actually, it's Molly, but you understand the idea.

And now Mum's calling me for lunch, so I suppose I should go downstairs or else I'll risk enduring the wrath of Molly Weasley. And we wouldn't want that, would we?

**Still 17th June, in the kitchen, 9:47 PM**

Oh, Ginny. You are officially hopeless.

There are a million different things that could be occupying your mind, yet you _still_ continue to think about the one thing you're not supposed to. You'd better snap out of it soon, Weasley, or else you'll turn into another blubbering Cho Chang.

Except, minus the blubbering part. You haven't cried yet.

And now I'll stop talking in the second person. Honestly, I will.

Sitting at dinner earlier on really confirmed something for me in my mind. Despite the fact that I'm determined to get over Harry and put him behind me, I somehow realize that I'm fighting a losing battle. I can't just forget about something like that. It's not that simple.

But I'm going to try. Because I'm not Cho Chang, and I don't cry when things go the opposite of what I wanted them to. Because I'm not the type of girl who sulks about a past she can't change, a girl who spends her days sitting alone in her bedroom, scribbling furiously into tattered notebooks. I'm stronger than that. And I _will_ get past this.

I'm determined, you see.

Besides, what's there to miss about Harry Potter, anyway? It can't be his eyes that I almost never lost myself in. It can't be holding his calloused hands from playing too much Quidditch. It can't be that _awful_ crooked grin that most definitely does _not_ make me go weak in the knees.

I don't need to see his smile to make me feel complete. I don't need to hear his mumbled, awkward mutterings of affection to feel wanted.

I don't need him at all.

But sometimes I wish he'd needed me.


	3. Ron: Completely Off the Point

**Chapter Three: Ron - Completely Off the Point**  
_potterfreak16_

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry for the wait for this chapter. Life's been hectic, and unfortunately fan fiction comes second to schoolwork. Took me a bit to finish the long-awaited chapter in Ron's POV, and hopefully you'll like what I've done with it. Hermione's next, and you can expect that chapter up in a few weeks, hopefully right around Christmas. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! I love hearing your opinions. Happy reading, everyone!

**Disclaimer:** The only thing that's mine is the plot. Unfortunately.

**18th June**

She's insane, Hermione is. Telling me to write my bloody feelings down as "documentation of our journey" with Harry. I'd like to see if _she's_ really doing it. I reckon Harry isn't, the poor bloke's got enough on his mind as it is without Hermione badgering him to write in a..._journal,_ or whatever this is.

I don't know why I'm bothering to write in this, seeing as Hermione's not going to be here for a few days yet, so she really can't possibly check if I've been doing it or not...

...but I reckon I'd better, Hermione's temper can rival Ginny's when she's in a mood.

Er...I'm not sure what I should be writing, seeing as this is supposed to be _documentation of my journey_ and everything. I don't suppose writing about Hermione's temper is really _documenting_ anything new. That's already a pretty well known fact. I haven't exactly forgotten about those bloody _birds_ she sent flying at my head last term.

I still have scars from that, I'll have you know. One right above my eyebrow and the other on the side of my nose. Thinking back on it, I think Hermione must've gone temporarily mad to set those birds on me. Surely she wouldn't have done it if she had been in the right state of mind.

I don't reckon that's an excuse, though. I mean, you didn't see _me_ attacking her for fraternizing with that ruddy pumpkin head, Krum, at the Yule Ball. And _he_ was from Durmstrang, competing against Harry in the tournament! You'd think with brains like hers, Hermione would pick better blokes to date. Better than the prats she's dated already, anyway.

At least Ginny wised up and started going out with Harry. He's loads better than Michael Corner or Dean Thomas, the prats. Harry's my best mate, I know he wouldn't _intentionally_ hurt Ginny. Yeah, I know, he broke up with her at Dumbledore's...er...funeral, and I can't say I was happy with him, but Harry's got his reasons, even if we can't understand them. I may or may not have given him a good punch in the nose afterward, though - I'm Ginny's older brother, I couldn't let him get off completely unscathed.

And speaking of Dumbledore's funeral, I reckon Hogwarts is going to remain open even though he won't be there to run it. McGonagall's the new Headmistress, she's already sent out our letters for next term. It's not like it matters to me, though, does it? I won't be going back. I still haven't told Mum about that, I expect I'll be lucky if I escape here without being jinxed into a jelly. Maybe she'll jinx me into raspberry jelly, though. Or better yet, raspberry _jam_. At least then people could use me on toast.

If I thought at the end of term last year that she'd go mad when she found out I wasn't going back to school, imagine how insane she'll be when she finds out that I've been made Head Boy.

I almost couldn't believe it myself when I got my letter earlier on. There it was, the badge and all. _Ronald Weasley, Head Boy._ It's got a nice ring to it, don't you think? Shame I can't use it. Might as well chuck it to the eels.

It'd be stupid of me to think that Hermione hasn't been made Head Girl. Like no one saw _that_ coming. Probably wishes she hadn't told Harry we'd go with him on his mission now. She's probably holding her badge in her hand right now, eating her bloody words.

That, or she's writing to _Vicky._ I expect she's still sending him novel length letters every other week.

What's so great about Krum, anyway? So he plays a fair game of Quidditch, so what? I play Quidditch too, and I'm not a bad Keeper when I'm focused. But what's so grand about being a famous Quidditch player when your bloody head is filled with flobberworms? 

And do you know what Ginny had the nerve to say to me when we'd arrived home from Hogwarts? She said I was jealous. _Jealous._ Jealous of what, Krum and his thick head filled with half-thoughts of how he's going to violate Hermione? She's completely off the point, Ginny is. I'm only looking out for Hermione. I'm one of her best mates, aren't I? And that's what best mates do. They look out for each other.

I mean, the only reason why I think Hermione staying in contact with Krum is bad news is because he's bloody using her. He's too old for her. And he can't bloody well give her what she needs.

**Still 18th June, only later**

I'd almost forgotten that Bill and Fleur were getting married next month with everything else that's been happening round here. The two of them got here a few hours ago, and according to Mum, they'll be staying until the wedding. Ginny's in a right state because she has to share her room with Fleur - or Phlegm, as she's still calling her - for an entire month. Personally, I don't see why sharing a room with Fleur would be a bad thing. Ginny's got her knickers in a twist for no reason other than that she wants to create more problems for everyone.

I told Mum I'd share with Fleur, but she didn't seem to think that to be such a fantastic idea. It's just as well, I suppose. Can't say I didn't try.

Dunno how Mum's going to hold everyone in the house. Fred, George and Charlie will be here soon enough, and for some reason she thinks that the world's biggest prat (more commonly known as my brother Percy) will be showing his face as well. Hermione will be here in a few days, and I reckon she'll have to share with Ginny and Fleur. I think Fleur will be lucky to make it to her wedding day - sharing a room with Ginny and Hermione, she stands a very good chance of getting murdered.

And then Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, will be here come July...and surely her French friends will be arriving for the wedding...

Bloody hell. For the first time in history, the Burrow will be filled with women.

I can't say I'm complaining. This summer might turn out to be interesting after all.


	4. Hermione: Explaining Myself to a Diary

**Chapter Four: Hermione - Explaining Myself to an Inanimate Object**

_**potterfreak16**_

**A/N: **So, I'm sure that quite a few of you were becoming extremely fed up with me for my lack of updates with _The Summer After._ I can only apologize for taking so long with chapter four. Other commitments kept me extremely busy these past two months, preventing me from finishing the long-awaited chapter written in Hermione's POV. I find her to be the hardest character to write, simply because it's hard for me to capture her voice. I hope I did her character _some_ justice, though. Enjoy, and please leave a review when you're done! Thanks!

**Disclaimer:** The only thing that's mine is the plot. Unfortunately.

**19th June, 3:16 PM. Currently inside of my kitchen.**

Hello. I'm Hermione Jane Granger, age seventeen, about to embark on a mission to help my best friend and hero of the magical world, Harry Potter, to defeat Lord Voldemort.

And yes, I did write his name. There will be none of that _You-Know-Who_ or _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ rubbish in this journal.

And yes, this _is_ a journal. I am _not_ afraid to admit it. I am using this journal as a means of documenting my journey with Harry and my other best (and emotionally retarded) friend Ronald Weasley as we search for missing pieces of Voldemort's soul.

Not your typical journal, is it? Talk of evil dark wizards and destroying pieces of a fragmented soul aren't exactly things one would expect to find in a normal seventeen-year-old girl's journal. Perhaps talk of crushes and mindless babble would be more appropriate, but luckily for the eyes that will eventually read these pages, (although possibly unlucky for me) I am _not_ an average girl. I am, believe it or not, a witch.

I know, it's a bit unbelievable, isn't it? When I received my Hogwarts letter in the mail all those years ago, I was nothing short of skepitcal...

Hang on. Why am I explaining myself to an inanimate object?

It's true that this book may be read by someone other than myself in the future, but I'm quite certain that this long-winded explanation is completely unnecessary. I think I tend to get caught up in the details of things sometimes. My apologies.

Right. Maybe I should discuss more relevant topics. This is, after all, supposed to be my version of the events that will take place once our journey begins. But since our journey hasn't officially begun yet, I really haven't a clue as to what to talk about.

I really haven't a clue as to why I started this today, but that's beside the point.

Hmm...well...oh!

In two days, I will be traveling to the Burrow and spending nearly a month there with Harry, Ron, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. Bill and Fleur are getting married next month, and it should be quite beautiful...

Hang on again. Why do I sound like such a boring, stuffy snob?

Honestly. I may be a bit of a bookworm, but I'm certainly not _boring._

There's a completely non-boring topic that I wanted to talk about, but the problem is that I'm not sure I _should_ talk about it. I know it'll only drag up more horrible memories, but...well, it's as though there's this indescribable yearning within me to talk about it. It's as though I know I won't feel all right again unless I get this off of my chest.

It's no secret that Professor Dumbledore is dead. It's been one of the very few "hot topics" that the Daily Prophet has been covering constantly. The intrigue of it all isn't exactly the fact that he's dead - it's more about the unanswered question of who killed him. I've been tempted on more than one ocassion to send an owl to them saying that it was Severus Snape who commited the atrocious crime, but I always stop myself, and sometimes I don't understand why.

But I think I understand why now.

There's been this nagging voice in the back of my mind that's been telling me that things aren't exactly as they seem. That maybe what happened that night on the Astronomy Tower wasn't cold-blooded murder.

I can't owl Harry about this because I know him well enough by now to know that he won't believe any of my theories. He's too loyal for his own good sometimes, I think. Most of the time it's a good quality of his, but on a few ocassions it interferes with his judgment, and that isn't beneficial to anyone.

But if I can't voice my theories to Harry, who can I tell? Surely Ron will think me insane, and will probably have no problem telling me so. Sometimes I think it's entirely useless to even attempt to communicate with that thick-headed moron. I'm completely aware that nothing I say ever penetrates his mind.

I could always talk to Ginny, I suppose, but she's probably just as strong in her belief that Snape is nothing more than a murderous traitor as Harry and Ron are. She might be a bit more open to theory, but she's certainly not going to agree with me. In fact, she'll probably follow the same route as her brother and tell me what an idiot I am.

I can't help but wonder if I'm the only person in the entire magical world that thinks it's possible that there's more to Severus Snape than meets the eye. Am I the only one that thinks that there may be more to his story than hasty assumptions and biased opinions? Something tells me that I might just be.

**Still 19th June, 7:54 PM. Currently sitting on my bed (which isn't made by the way, and it's really bothering me).**

I've just received an owl from Ginny. Of course she sent Pig, and I really wish she wouldn't have, because he's hooting exceptionally loudly and my parents are getting rather annoyed. I can hear them muttering in their bedroom across the hall. She should've sent Errol instead. The bird may be a bit disoriented, but at least he doesn't make so much noise.

Anyway, back to the point.

Ginny sent me a letter, and I noticed that she went to great lengths to avoid mentioning Harry. She even went so far as to say: _Ron's best mate got here a few days ago, you know, the one who bumps into me on staircases and doesn't apologize or even acknowledge my presence. _

I cringe to think of what it's going to be like once I get there. With Harry and Ginny not speaking, it's going to make for a very awkward stay indeed.

I leave in two days. With everything that's bound to happen at the Burrow, I'm sure I'll have you filled up before we even begin the search for the Horcruxes.


End file.
